Saturday, December 30, 2006

i'm flying from JFK to oakland, watching six hours of consecutive tv when i normally instead would be doing something else. don't get me wrong; i’m not complaining.

anyways, i was lucky enough to come across michael jackson’s epic “thriller” video on vh1 classic. even today, it holds up. it’s really a testament to jackson, john landis and everyone who had a hand in it.

it’s been over twenty years later, though, and something struck me as purely ridiculous and a little bit creepy.

it wasn’t the zombies coming out from their graves.it wasn’t michael turning into a zombie.hell, it wasn’t even how the zombies and michael broke out into spontaneous dance.

no, the most ridiculous thing about the whole thing, by far, was that michael jackson was on a date with a woman.

i know. freaky. and completely unbelieveable.

of course, it was just the second best thing i saw on the plane, next to this awesome clip.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

i've been to my share of great nba games at madison square garden. i saw the knicks blow out the bulls in a playoff game where michael jordan clanged a dunk off the back rim. i saw patrick ewing's first game. i saw the reggie miller game. and there's so many others that i just can't remember.

but tonight was the best.

a resurgent knicks team against the pistons - the best team in the east.

rip hamilton had 51 for detroit. stephon marbury had 41, eddy curry 33, jamal crawford 29 and channing frye 26 for new york. the pistons were beasts on the board. david lee reciprocated while curry cowered. crawford had 11 gorgeous assists. antonio mcdyess attacked the rim with springs in his legs. everyone left everything they had on the hardwood.

we were tied at the end of regulation. we were tied at the end of the first overtime. crawford found frye for a jumper at the buzzer to bring us to triple overtime. and crawford and curry put it away for the win, 151-145.

yep. 151-145. knicks win. knicks win.

the knicks, already with a depleted bench, saw marbury foul out in the second overtime. so you had crawford, jeffries, lee, frye and curry to end the game. that's 6'5, 6'11, 6'8, 6'11 and 6'11. that's a big team. you had hamilton going nuts from all over until jeffries shut him down. you had crawford positively sizzling in overtime, hitting clutch shot after clutch shot, with 9 in the final overtime. you had highs and lows within seconds. you had everything you could ask for in any sort of game.

it was exhausting.

my father, brother and i hoarse from screaming.

the garden electric.

what a night. a night summoning the ghosts of ewing, oakley and starks.

as you all know, i hate musicals. i really do. in fact, just the idea of spontaneous song makes me sick. i don't get it, never had and never will. or so i thought.

this movie has some of that, and, well, i might be loosening my hatred somewhat.

let's get right to it with what everyone is saying: this movie is beyond fantastic. it's fun, emotional and brilliantly written, acted, directed, shot, choreographed and sung. sure, it lags in some areas, but when some scenes are so thrilling, others will pale in comparison.

as usual, jamie foxx is brilliant. eddie murphy is eddie murphy, and hopefully will be nominated for being so. beyonce knowles is among the most beautiful women in the world - and it's not fair that she's also got that voice. and the guy who adapted "chicago" really knows what the hell he's doing.

it's everything you've heard, and you won't be disappointed.

but i haven't gotten to what i'm talking about.

it only really takes one scene to win an oscar. for example, nicholson had the "you can't handle the truth" speech in "a few good men". halle berry had that rough sex scene in "monster's ball". and, in this movie, there's the utterly amazing jennifer hudson, who will win this oscar unanimously, singing "and i am telling you i'm not going". it's done in spontaneous song with the rest of the cast, but it's so emotionally charged, so sad, so believeable, so...deeply moving, so everything that's right with film and storytelling that...

yes, i'm gonna admit it...

i applauded at the end of the scene...

for a piece of film, an inanimate object that didn't appreciate it.

silly, yes, but if i saw it again, i'd do it again.

jennifer hudson won the oscar with that scene. and, in fact, without that scene, she'd win the oscar anyways. it's the most jawdropping performance you're ever gonna experience.

if nothing, see it for that.

but oh, that scene. it's added to the pantheon of great scenes.

and you won't just clap at the end of the scene. you'll find yourself, amazingly again, waiting until the end of the movie to see her credit appear, "introducing jennifer hudson", just to clap again.

Monday, December 25, 2006

that was what my nephew was singing today. he completely made that lyric up - and it raises so many questions. you know, like what's in the train? what's wrong with it? what's god doing about it? why can't he budge it? how long will he try? when will he stop trying?

there's so many questions. it's the new little red wheelbarrow.

it's deep, really deep, and it was spoken by a kid not even four years old.

i have never seen a team this tepid, this careless, this undisciplined, this terribly coached, this horrid. and i've never seen a team have so little fun playing a game. i know this'll sound cliched, but it's true. they played like they'd rather be somewhere else.

it was a total disgrace - and that's like, what, the sixth time i've written those words during the tom coughlin regime.

this is the team i love, and i don't really like them right now. they've insulted my allegiance time and time again, and i'm exhausted.

i don't want the giants to win next week because i don't want to care about this team anymore. i don't want to subject myself to a passionless team play unemotional football. it's insulting to an entire fan base.

i'd rather have green bay take that last wild card spot, just because it's so much fun watching brett favre have so much fun.

there's so many things special about this. there really is. especially when they type in pete rose at "100% discipline". that, my friends, is comedy gold.

there's three parts to this musical. and you're gonna need 100% desire, 100% teamwork and 100% determination to get through them all. but trust me. it's absolutely brilliant.

of course, if the 2006 yankees had done a remake of "think big!" starring jason giambi and gary sheffield, it would have had a different meaning completely. and, of course, a-rod would had flubbed his lines at the most dramatic scenes.

Monday, December 18, 2006

after hitting the john after i landed at jfk, i headed to carousel #1 for my luggage. at that time there were three different bags rotating around - a blue one, a red one and a small black one. when the black one came around, a woman in her 60s checked to see if it was hers.

when it came around again, she checked it again.

and when it came around again, she checked it. again. even though it was obviously the same bag. one of the three.

so i laughed.

after i laughed, a woman next to me hit me in the arm and said, "she's checked the same damn bag five times". we both laughed and waited for the next revolution.

and as it approached, i did play-by-play. "hey? is that? could it be? it looks black, it's about the right size? should i check it?" and when she checked it and let it go, i said, "catch and release!" the woman next to me laughed.

and when it approached yet again, i said, "oh, this might be the one. maybe this time around. okay. it's black and it's small. fingers crossed, fingers crossed..." and when she, of course checked it again, i said, "catch and release!" again. the woman next to me laughed harder.

and that was it. more bags came on the carousel, adding to the three already there. so the fun was lost.

for the record: she didn't check that bag again. seven times was more than enough i guess.

i never ever watch six hours of tv at once - unless i'm flying cross-country on jet blue. and after i get sick and tired of watching sportscenter, espnews and every other derivation of last night's highlights, i usually start skimming around for something else - and that something else usually winds up on vh1 classic. in this case, i watched an interesting show about how how metallica made their legendary record, "the black album".

but that's not what i'm blogging about here.

here were the two shows that made me laugh out loud.

and i'm totally serious about this.

1. "love connection" on gsn. it's still the same show that we all remember from the 80s. and that's the key word: 80s. beyond the lame conversations, video bios, repartees and payoffs, we're now treated with a special gift from our friend time: 80s haircuts. for example, this vapid bimbo with "the claw" haircut had to choose between three men and their haircuts: a blond spike, the jack tripper part with mustache and, finally, a mullet. she chose the blond spike guy. it was pure comedy brilliance. and unending. it's a show like this that makes you wonder what everyone was thinking during a decade like that. i urge you to check it out. it's grown better with age, and since we're talking about the 80s, it's everything you'd think it'd be.

2. "al tv" on mtv. and by "al", i mean weird al yankovic. and by weird al yankovic, i mean that weird al yankovic. this is his sketch comedy and video show for his new album, "straight outta lynwood". the songs and videos sucked for the most part. that, i grant. but he had some very funny skits in there. for example, he had access to celebrity interviews - like kevin federline - and weird al filmed himself in front of a background that mimicked the celebrity. so it felt like an actual interview, except weird al knew the answers and wrote - and i can't believe i'm writing this - really clever and funny questions. and somewhat incisive. yeah, i know.

actually, what really got me laughing hard was a polka version of "gold digger" by kanye west, where he played the video and sang a different version of the song but it synced up pretty well. so we see jamie foxx singing, but we hear weird al. it's actually quite brilliant stuff.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

in the wake of the knicks-nuggets brawl, which was a disgrace on top of a embarassment on top of a travesty, well, there's nothing really left to cheer for at the garden.

outside of carmelo anthony suckerpunching mardy collins and then literally running away, the part i loved best was isiah thomas at the press conference afterwards talking about how "this is our house" and "we can't be disrespected."

here's a stat for you, isiah:

the knicks are 4-10 at home, and they play with the urgency of a marathoner on mile one. the only ones being disrespected at home are your fans.

so sadly, when the suspensions are handed out, i'm hoping for a 56-gamer for you, isiah. that'll last throughout the season and, hopefully, your tenure destroying the knicks.

this is our house, isiah. don't let the revolving door hit you on the way out.

that john hufnagel has to go, and he should take his predictable and boring playcalling with him. three years of the same system, and eli's still confused? i don't think the problem lies with the manning kid.

and tim lewis should follow him out of east rutherford, along with his complete lack of grasping the obvious and a failure of fixing mistakes made over and over and over again.

and since we're at it, let's toss tom coughlin. he makes it difficult to root for him and, sadly, for the team i love. what good is being a disciplinarian when your team outwardly rebels against you and if you're continually outcoached? none. there's no good here.

something's rotten in jersey, and for once, it ain't jersey.

even an idiot like troy aikman, the worst color guy in sports and maybe history, would agree with me on all this.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

the scene: oakland. george bush's america. i'm guessing seven men for every females. and of those seven, four have goatees. and six of them are wearing black. and three of them are looking for a fight, and two in return are happy to oblige. i know this. i saw most of them get together. also, three of them are wearing a gnr t-shirt just purchased. and two of them were gonna be seriously pissed when they realized that bart stopped running at midnight. yep, those people. it was basically a raiders game, except not as peaceful.

the opening act: to say sebastian bach was a trainwreck would be minimizing the damage. i mentioned throughout the show that it wasn't a performance as much as it was a checklist. it was every rock cliche you could think of, from his calling for everyone to raise their cellphone up high (the new lighter) and practically begging everyone to sway them to ripping his shirt off to well, if you've seen a concert, then he did it. if he were kidding, it would have been brilliant. but he wasn't, so it was still brilliant, just not to him. if this were an effort to prove he hasn't changed in eighteen years, then he was successful. he could still rock terribly.

the main event: after bach was done at 11:30 (which is usually the ending time for most concerts), they still had to put gnr's stage together - which should have taken 30 minutes, but it took them an hour to get on stage. so yeah, we wound up hearing the first riffs of "welcome to the jungle" at 12:30. but oh, what a riff. i swear to god, there's very few things that can give you chills up your spine any more than being in an arena and hearing that. loudly. and in isolation. one riff at a time. holy crap, my lord. and then there's axl looking...well, heavier...and, to be honest, happy on stage. let there be no confusion: axl rose is a rock star. he's got it. and he's assembled a band that's about as tight as you can expect from a band called gnr. great great stuff. in fact, electrifying. you can say what you want about the superficiality of heavy metal, but guns n roses transcended all of that with superior craft, skill and musicianship. the songs are gorgeous and intense and everything that the 80s music scene should have been, except it was far too late to save it.

wow. talking about riffs.

anyways, they were fantastic. and having lars ulrich play with them for a song didn't suck either. the one thing that did suck was that they did go on at 12:30 and, after they played "nighttrain" at 2:30 in the morning, well, we were exhausted (plus, seeing a brawl happen right in front of us didn't lighten our moods). so, expecting an angry mob, already incensed that beer sales had stopped and spurred on by the already intense music they paid for plus with the future realization that they had no train to take them home, while watching a show at a much later time they expected, we felt that it was a good time to leave - even if they didn't get to the whole cliched "encore" thing. i mean, we heard everything we wanted except "paradise city". no complaining, other than if i knew i'd be on my feet for seven hours, i wouldn't have worn my chucks.

but would i see them again? hell yeah. i'd just get seats next time. and a case of jolt cola.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

my brother and i had a nice genteel conversation yesterday on the phone, one that we've had only about 589,223 times since december 2002 - which is, quite simply, what the hell is isiah thomas thinking?

isiah thomas was the smartest and toughest guard i've ever seen. and yet, as an executive, he's made a living stockpiling idiotic ninnies for his basketball team. you know, the exact opposite of what made him great, what made him a hall of famer and, most importantly, what made him a champion.

and now, the second coming of isiah is on the trading block, and he's not even thinking about trading him?

you might think many things about allen iverson, but these things are undeniable: tough. quick. talented. athletic. basketball savvy. in fact, if you add the suffix -est to all those adjectives, you'd still be correct: toughest. quickest. most talented. most athletic. basketball savviest. i'm right about all of these. there's no question. and if you have one, just watch him play live, and then come back to me.

one thing has become blatantly obvious when you watch an nba game: there's so much basketball talent in the world that it's kinda plateaud. don't get me wrong: KG and nowitski and nash and d-wade and melo are more talented than their peers, but they're not all that much more, and when you look at rosters, well, the difference in talent between one team and another is negligible. (don't get me wrong: the suns are more talented than the bobcats. but it's not like ohio state playing wagner).

and, the other thing that's most obvious about watching an nba game is this: usually, the difference between winning and losing is nothing more than effort. what team wants it more. what team sacrifices more. what team leaves more of themselves on the court. just watch a game. of course, there are other factors, but most of those factors are governed by effort.

effort. who wants it more. who sacrifices more. who leaves more of themselves on the court

did i just describe a certain 5'11" basketball player that happens to be on the trading block?

and did i just describe exactly what ails my new york knicks?

am i crazy? how could or would you not love allen iverson on your basketball team? it's insane. it's completely insane. he's every intangible that sportswriters glorify but can never quantify.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

"the queen"starring helen mirren, michael sheen and james cromwelldirected by stephen frearswritten by peter morganviewed at the kabuki theater, san francisco

even though i was an english lit major, i never really got the reasons why england still had the whole monarchy thing - you know, past their linear ties to times past. i realized that the king, back in the day, was the ruling body. but with parliament and the prime minister now with so much power, why were these people idolized other than that their blood is the blood of kings and queens from years ago? that was my american longview. totally didn't get it.

but, within the first five minutes of this film, queen elizabeth squashed all that when she tells tony blair, "it's my government. you have to ask me of you want to run it." oh. got it. done. parliament is a bunch of independent contractors who are hired by the people to run the government that's owned by the house of windsor.

and, above the whole monarchy thing, i never really got the whole princess di thing either. i mean, she's royalty, and therefore, above mere citizens. and when she died, i always figured that the public outpouring of grief was because of her celebrity, that she was a well-known pretty public figure. that was also my american longview. and yeah, now i know how wrong i was.

this movie is about all of that, but mostly about how you can be so insular and completely lose touch with reality. i'm sure that's the deal with the english monarchy. they live privileged lives unlike and above those of their subjects in their country. and this movie is a microcosm of that, but in a time when the country needed them the most - the days after the death of their beloved princess.

it's a remarkable film of old traditions bumping up against modern times. and it's all corralled by helen mirren, who is completely mesmerizing at her royal majesty. if she doesn't win an oscar, they probably shouldn't hand one out.

plus, michael sheen is fantastic as tony blair (although i always thought that tony blair was just a zany martin short character). and james cromwell was great as usual as prince philip.

there's so much to like about this film. hell, i learned a ton just by watching it. and i've just scratched the surface of what it's about - although i still don't know what the royal family exactly does.

it's the second best movie i've seen this year, behing "the departed". and that's nothing to be ashamed of.

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of course, this is a generic e-mail sent out to millions of blogs (are there really millions of blogs?), but still, let's break this down sentence by sentence, just in case the commentor is reading this again:

Hi, i was looking over your blog and didn't quite find what I was looking for.this is completely understandable. sometimes, i do write too much about sports, and sometimes i get off on stupid tangents. i don't really know what my audience is past my close friends and family, although i do seem to have tapped a vein into the taylor hicks and josh groban crowds. i have no qualms with this sentence. you, dear commentor, are completely in the right in this one, and i am taking this opportunity to salute you, although you're probably not reading this blog again, for i was not what you were looking for. a compliment wasted, really.

I'm looking for different ways to earn money.who isn't? i am. we all are. who wouldn't want that? but why would you think that the steveohville speakeasy would supply that information to you? i've never written on that subject. i have my own ways of earning money, of which i am happy to share. but it's very specific to me and my job, so it's not like it's general information, and it wouldn't really pertain to you. maybe you mistook the name of my blog as the $teveohville $peakea$y. i a$$ure you, that is fal$e.

I did find this though...a place where you can make some nice extra cash secret shopping. I made over $900 last month having fun!wow. that's great. but is making $900 a month really something you should be bragging about? the fact that you stated $900 instead of $1000 means that what you made is somewhere between $900-$999. and you would have rounded up if it were $950. so, really, you made somewhere between $900-$949 last month, which really isn't that much and probably at some point will get you on "the people's court" as a defendant. again, that's nothing you should be bragging about. but at least you were having fun. and if i were you, i wouldn't be spending my time reading blogs like this. or be on the internet. unless it's for finding cheap santa suits.

i go into green apple books every week, and although i rummage through their vinyl, i've never noticed their $2 bargain bin. you can't blame a man. i've only been inside the store over a hundred times or so.

Monday, December 11, 2006

it's elvis' rendition of that sad song, with him playing the piano and singing as the jordaniares stand quiety beside him, and there's heartache in every word he presents, dripping with the pain from every syllable. his craft as a singer was never finer, never more sharp, never more incisive. and he makes it his, all his.

it's haunting.

and it's moving to watch, as this is the fat elvis, hopped up on drugs, completely out of his mind, sweat laden, and yet he's able to hit that higher octave right at the end. you see his physical condition completely demolished, and yet his voice is completely intact, an absolutely amazing performance by an absolutely amazing singer.

if it were andy dick, everyone would think that this whole thing was a bit. if it were chris rock, everyone would think that the puncher was a racist. if it were jon stewart, everyone would call for the heckler's head.

but it's pauly shore. so everyone laughed and clapped.

a bigger question: what were people in odessa, texas even doing paying their hard earned money to se pauly shore, star of "biodome" and "in the army now"? was jeff foxworthy already booked in el paso? and didn't that heckler have something better to do, like raping his horse or something? maybe raping his cow?

and, most importantly, how did pauly shore get so prime a gig?

(on a serious note: where the hell was security on this one? that's inexcusable. then again, what did pauly shore say for security to think that he deserved it).

Friday, December 08, 2006

on tuesday's "late night with conan o'brien", he had a skit introducing new college mascots. one of them was the fsu manatee webcams. and it featured a mascot dressed as a manatee dancing in front of a computer while someone from the band watched it all on a laptop.

when it came back to conan, he remarked that he's watching it on hornymanatee.com.

it was an offhand spontaneous remark. it wasn't on the script. it was just something to fill time.

anyways, nbc came back to conan and informed him that whenever he mentions a made-up website name on the air - like hornymanatee.com - they have to automatically buy it. yes, the corporate and legal world has become that ridiculous.

so, conan figured that since they have it - for the next ten years - they might as well build it out.

i do my laundry every other saturday in the same laundromat (and before i get e-mails, i have sixteen pairs of underwear). whenever i go in, there's usually a homeless guy there with a long red beard and a freaky black trenchcoat who's just hanging out. he's harmless, i reckon, but he's there. he's not always there, but he's there enough.

and, for some reason, i kinda feel good that he's there with my clothes while i'm out on a run while my washer is going. because he's always there, he seems like an employee. and yes, it sounds as stupid as it reads.

aaaaaanyways, while walking out of walgreens today, i noticed him hanging out. i've never seen him outside the laundromat. so my eyes locked onto him, and his onto mine. and that's when i accidentally kicked over his change chalace.

it scampered all the way down the block. of course, i didn't see it and of course, i went to get it and put the thirty five cents that were in it. and of course, i gave it back to him. no harm, no foul.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

i'm sitting in yet another coffeehouse, this one in my neighborhood. nice enough place. small. it's right next to a ballet center, so once the class gets out, the little girls and their mothers gather at the small coffeehouse.

so it's, in a word, LOUD.

not sure if i'm going back there.

aaanyways, i'm sitting there in one of the quiet moments, and i see an old man putter to us in one of those motorized wheelchairs/scooters. i couldn't take my eyes off the guy as he drove across the street because he was sitting side saddle - which, i gotta say, i've never seen before. then again, he had to, since he had a bucket of what looked like junk set in front of him.

he finally made it to the front door, which was closed, and being the fine gentleman i am, i opened it for him.

"why thank you sir," he said.

"no problem," i replied as i turn around to sit down.

"hey, the name's dale condry, and i've got a fantastic opportunity for you". he offered me his hand. his nails were the size of bottlecaps.

"sir, i don't work..."

"licorice soda!"

"what?"

"what i'm offering you and your establishment is a chance to sell licorice soda at a discount price. i've got a brochure here - it's got some writing on it so please, overlook that, but it's the last one i got - but it's gonna be the hit of the century, i tell ya."

"sir, i don't work here."

"oh...you don't."

"nah. i'm a customer".

"oh...well, can you point me to the big man of the house?"

i looked at the woman behind the counter. she ducked down to avoid him. "yeah, she's hiding over there."

he scooted over to her. ""hey, the name's dale condry, and i've got a fantastic opportunity for you. what i'm offering you and your establishment is a chance to sell licorice soda at a discount price. i've got a..."

of course, she wasn't interested. so the old man scooted out the door - and into the ballet center.

so to recap: old man. nails like bottlecaps. scooter. side saddle. licorice soda, whatever that is.

i hung out at the canvas cafe in my old neighborhood yesterday. it's a great place to write - a huge coffeehouse with a monthly art gallery on the walls and nightly shows like open mic, jazz, djs, comedy or whatnot. if you can't get inspired in a place like this, you just can't get inspired.

now that i've moved neighborhoods, i can easily say that i really miss that place.

but i was back there yesterday and i did some great writing, really solid stuff that i'm proud of. but, after a couple of iced teas, a chicken ceaser salad and a chocolate chip cookie, well, my bladder be exploding. so i hit the john and, like everything else in this place, even that was creative - especially in the stall.

the resident artist for the month drew and spraypainted these characters all over.

and amid all that were just scribbles written by other shitters - but really deep thoughts, like "i wish i were alive" or "forgive. just forgive" and other stuff i can't remember. some of it were really powerful.

there doesn't seem to be any let up in the innovation between the california milk processor board and their longtime ad agency (and my former haunt) goodby silverstein and partners. taking "got milk?" to a new level, they embedded a bunch of bus shelters in san francisco with the smell of cookies. seriously, if that doesn't make you crave some milk, then you're a lost cause.

besides, i'd rather smell cookies in a bush shelter than the usual urine scent.

so, in typical san francisco fashion (and i love this city, i really do), people are complaining.

one complaint is that, although these aromas are good for the environment, this could lead to perfume companies following suit and policing whether or not these scents pass muster and be safe to all could be unregulated. i get that. i see that.

but here's where the crazy come in.

some people are complaining that the cookie scents are unfair to the homeless because, and i shit you not, it would make them want to eat cookies and milk, and they don't have the money to do so.

seriously.

i couldn't make that up if i tried.

so people out here are worried about the homeless and their right to drink themselves to death because, god forbid, they actually eat cookies and milk instead.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

i've been on board the college football bandwagon for awhile. the tailgating, the gameday atmosphere, the passion, the pageantry - i get it and i'll be its greatest cheerleader.

but when you break down how they pick a championship game, well, it undermines most of what's great about the sport.

let's break down this year's selection:

ohio state is obviously #1.

going into the final week, usc was firmly planted at #2, even though it had one loss along with michigan, florida and wisconsin. yet we can safely eliminate wisconsin from this discussion for no real reason whatsoever. and also boise state, who was undefeated in a softer schedule.

so if usc won, they would play ohio state. why? well, they would win the pac-10, and they had a tough schedule, and...well, an opinion, i guess, even though florida won the sec championship and also had one loss and played a tougher schedule. and that michigan only loss was to ohio state by 3.

but usc lost. so logic would say that michigan, who was #3 in the rankings, would therefore move up to #2 and play ohio state in a rematch.

but florida's win over arkansas vaulted them to #2 and into the championship game.

but let's be real honest about this.

if usc wins, florida doesn't leapfrog michigan in the rankings even with their win. they just don't. nobody outside the south believes florida is a better team than michigan.

but usc lost, and since michigan hasn't played in two weeks, florida goes to #2.

michigan dropped two spots in two weeks, even though they haven't played.

so, to break this down:

florida is voted as a better team than michigan only because ucla beat usc. and because michigan's schedule ended two weeks earlier.

ladies and gentlemen, your ncaa football championship game selection process.

here's a video of ucsb students celebrating their school's ncaa soccer championship by stealing a goalpost and marching in the streets.

while watching this quick 16 second clip, please keep in mind that:1. the game took place in st. louis.2. this video takes place in santa barbara.3. the students went to a random field and stole a random goalpost.

i always find it funny that in a city as clever and intelligent as san francisco, the biggest local celebrity is a guy who hides behind a bush and scares the crap out of tourists. if you don't know the bushman, get to know him before you soil yourself.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

i just don't think that you shouldn't play for a national championship if you haven't won your conference. sorry, michigan. you had your shot at the buckeyes.

that's just me. then again, i'm not a conference commissioner or a bowl organizer, whose main priorities are to be sure that the division 1A scholar-athletes - unlike 1-AA, 2 and 3 football players - have plenty of time to study for finals in lieu of playoffs, because that is what's important here and not money, right? and that a playoff wouldn't work because of all of those reasons and not for money purposes, of course of course of course.

of course, the bcs only works when the choices are obvious - two undefeated teams, two one loss teams. in this case, it doesn't. it'll pick a team, and the whole process will be flawed. again. no matter who gets the nod.

Friday, December 01, 2006

after a bad day of writing, where i really did nothing productive with my third act, i decided that it might be a good idea to put my pen down and check out two of the best movies of this year - made by two of the best filmmakes in the world.

so i did. and i realized how far i need to go.

starring penélope cruz and lola dueñaswritten and directed by pedro almodóvar viewed at the clay theater, san francisco

as with many of almodovar's films, we take a short turn into the obscure and high tail it to the bizarre. but that's a good thing, because it usually comes from a good place - in this case, the idea that you have to open your eyes to see the world you make for yourself. or at least that's what i got from the film. it wasn't obvious. i really had to work for it. but that's a good thing. i don't think finding out what a movie is about should be transparent. and, as with many of almodovar's films, it's funny and colorful and thoughtful, emotional and seductive, beautifui and poetic. and, above all, fun. penelope cruz is fantastic, but then again, she rarely isn't.

starring brad pitt, cate blanchett and loads of othersdirected by alejandro gonzález iñárrituwritten by guillermo arriagaviewed at the bridge theater, san francisco

just one good deed can set off dire consequences. like in "volver", that theme wasn't obvious to me, and i love that it wasn't. like "amores perros" and "21 grams", the storytelling is unrelenting, morbid, graphic, intense and eloquent, with characters making hard choices that seem unimaginable to us. his movies don't necessarily have happy endings; in fact, i even wonder why they make the movies they do. they're never uplifting or even sheds some optimism on the human condition. still, it's marvelous storytelling and filmmaking, from acting to writing to directing to the scoring to the editing. there's not one facet of this film that you're not in awe of. at least, i was.

i'm sitting in a coffeehouse on fillmore street, which is the main thoroughfare in exclusive pacific heights. although this is very unscientific - which constitutes of a quick glance at every woman who passes by my window seat - i'd have to guess that the ratio of great asses - whether formed by workout regimes, great genes, tight jeans or eating disorders - to even just an average looking ass is about 723:1. and the average asses would be standouts anywhere else in the city.

as a matter of fact, i saw just one woman with a big ass. and i think she just got arrested.